


Unprofessional

by The_Yaoi_Goddess



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Art Theft, Interpol - Freeform, M/M, one-night stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:51:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4696328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Yaoi_Goddess/pseuds/The_Yaoi_Goddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percy Jackson is an Interpol agent and Nico di Angelo is an art thief, and they really shouldn't be having these one-night stands that are turning into two-night stands that are turning into something more. Really, it's unprofessional.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unprofessional

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thespiritworlds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thespiritworlds/gifts).



> This is for thespiritworlds, whose request is a Percico one-night one-shot smut where the ‘one-night’ turns into several but they still don’t exchange numbers or talk. I haven’t written Percico or smut in like years but I tried haha hope you like it!

"He- _llo?_ " He manages to say through gritted teeth, one hand crushing his phone to his ear, the other leaving bruises on Nico's hips. "What… did he take - _hah_ \- this time?"

"So _good_ ," Nico groans, fingers clawing into the sheets beneath him.

" _Damn it_ ," The guy growls, and Nico doesn't know if it's because of the phone call or because of him. "I'll see you... in the - _ah_ \- office."

Flippantly, he flicks his wrist and throws his phone onto the floor. When he leans down to bite Nico's nape, his chest is sweaty against Nico's back. He presses butterfly kisses along Nico's shoulder blades next, gently, tenderly, like a lover would, and when Nico comes undone after a few more thrusts, he follows seconds later.

He pulls out and flops onto his back on the bed, and Nico collapses on his chest, face flushed and lightly panting. Nico doesn't allow himself to bask in the afterglow. In minutes, he pulls himself together, picking up his clothing off the floor as the guy watches him from the bed.

"You're really, _really_ sexy," He says, eyes raking over Nico's body, a lazy, irresistible grin on his face. "And we're really, _really_ compatible."

Nico pulls his shirt over his head, raising an eyebrow at what the guy was getting at. True, they _were_ compatible, and the guy was a _god_ in bed, but Nico had another heist in four days, and he couldn't afford to get careless. Still, he needed an outlet for stress and what better outlet was there than a hot guy in bed?

Nico walks over to his shoes, a slight limp in his step, and picks up the guy's forgotten phone. He stares at the guy, weighing his options, and makes up his mind. He registers his current number into the phone.

"Nico," Nico says by way of introduction, before he tosses the phone to its owner.

"Sweet," The guy says, grinning even as Nico walks out the hotel room and closes the door behind him.

In hindsight, Nico thought the guy's disposable phone and overly-plain, unmarked clothes should have given him away.

 

Nico messages him a week later, after he has another one of his late mother's paintings safely stored in his little hideout in Italy.

**U free 2nite?**

He doesn't wait for a reply. Instead, he gets into a cab and heads for the nearest club. By the time his phone vibrates, Nico is already in a private room on the second floor, with a blue-eyed blond's lips on his neck. He chuckles at something the other says against his skin, closing his eyes in pleasure. The blond pushes him down onto the leather couch and Nico moans in anticipation. He is running his fingers through the blond's hair, when the door slams open.

"What on - " The blond gets up from the couch, bewildered. "Hey, the room is taken!"

Another guy steps in, all arrogance and confidence. He takes one look at Nico, sea-green eyes hardening, and promptly picks up the blond by the back of his shirt and shoves him away.

"This guy," The newcomer points to Nico. "Is taken."

The blond’s face twists in outrage. He pulls his arm back and swings, but the guy neatly sidesteps, pushes him out the door, and locks it. The blond pounds on the door angrily, shouting obscenities, but Nico doesn't move an inch, rooted to the couch by those sea-green eyes, too bright in the darkness of the room.

"H-hi?" Nico says weakly, voice still scratchy with arousal.

The guy pushes Nico back onto the couch.

"You didn't reply," He murmurs huskily, eyes dark with want, and Nico forgets whatever reply he has in mind the moment the guy's lips find his.

In hindsight, Nico thinks he should've wondered how the guy found him.

 

It is during his third heist that Nico's luck finally runs out.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," He hisses, hastily wrapping the painting in dry, protective cloth.

He keeps on running, his rubber shoes barely making a sound on the asphalt. He turns a corner that leads away from the museum and to a supermarket. There, in the parking lot, is a gray SUV, windows tinted, engines running. Nico opens the passenger door and shoves the painting inside.

"Don't get caught," Hazel says, before she hits the pedal and speeds away.

Nico runs for two more blocks, trying to throw the police off Hazel's track, and then he is surrounded.

 

"Where is the painting?" The female agent asks again, in what would have to be the thousandth time in the four hours Nico's been in the interrogation room. “Where did you hide it?”

Nico doesn't say anything, his dark eyes darting around the room, searching for any way to escape. The room is small, without any vents or windows, and the walls are covered with one-way mirrors. Between him and the agent is a steel desk.

"You're not getting anywhere, Agent Dare," A voice says over the intercom.

Strangely enough, Nico recognizes that voice.

"What are you doing here, Agent Jackson?" Agent Dare presses two fingers to her temple. "You're not even assigned to this case."

"Why don't you take a break?"

Agent Dare throws up her hands in exasperation and shoots Nico a dirty look, before she leaves the room, stomping her feet as she went. A moment later, the door opens again. Nico almost sighs, expecting his reprieve would last a little longer. However, instead of Agent Dare, a guy with messy black hair enters. He's wearing a sharp, well-fitted suit that shows off his broad shoulders and nice arms, and his green tie is almost the same shade as his eyes.

Nico's mouth goes dry.

He'd been fucking an Interpol agent.

 

"I have three questions," The guy says, all-business now, voice formal and serious.

Nico's not an expert on the subject, but he's pretty sure this isn't how interrogations are supposed to go. The desk is ice-cold against his bare stomach and he curls his fingers, trying to find purchase on the steel surface. His thoughts are hazy, fleeting at best, and all he knows is that the guy's lips feel _absolutely delicious_ on his skin.

"Number one," The guy says, punctuating his words with a hard thrust that sends Nico mewling. "Who's the guy you were with at the club?"

"Wh-what… ?"

The guy behind him goes still, obviously waiting, and Nico almost growls. He wants to push back and _move_ , but the guy's hands are on his hips, pinning him to the table. After a beat, the guy pulls out and Nico lets his forehead drop to the desk, almost sobbing in frustration.

"I... I don't know," He whines. "I… I met him there… at the c-club."

"Okay, number two," The guy lifts one of Nico's legs, turning him around. "Are you single?"

Suddenly, Nico is staring at those sea-green eyes and he can't think straight. He reaches up to tangle his fingers in that messy, dark hair and _pulls_ , trying to talk with his actions. The guy groans, placing both of Nico's legs over his shoulders, but doesn't give in.

"Y-yes," Nico answers, breathless.

The guy slides back inside him in one long, slow, and agonizing thrust, and Nico sees stars behind his eyelids. He sighs and whimpers and begs for more, and the guy gives it to him until they're both a mess and his suit is splattered with white stains. The guy pulls out, zips up his pants, and wipes it off like it’s nothing. Nico sits up on the desk, sated and content and still unsure of what just happened.

"Last question," The guy smiles then, a huge, lazy grin that makes Nico's breath hitch. "Will you go out with me?"

 

Next thing Nico knows is he's walking through the sleek, gray hallways of the Interpol office, wearing a borrowed suit, an empty folder tucked under his arm. Off in the distance, he can hear an alarm ringing. The agents are rushing past him without so much as a second glance.

"I'm gonna walk you out the front door," The guy says. "Then you will take a cab down the block."

"Why are you helping me?" Nico asks, once they're finally outside.

"Well, I can't exactly date a criminal, can I?" The way he says it is casual, so, _so_ casual he even shrugs his shoulders.

They cross the street when the stoplight turns red and the guy holds Nico’s hand, interlacing their fingers. Nico thinks it’s unfair, because his heart is beating like mad in his chest and he’s blushing like a cherry, and the guy is laughing and shrugging like all is right with the world.

It’s unfair, really.

They reach the line of taxis and the guy opens the passenger door of a waiting cab. He hands the driver a couple of hundred dollar bills and says something Nico doesn’t hear. Then, he grabs Nico by the elbow and none too gently pushes him inside. Nico winces, rubbing his backside, and the cab starts up and pulls away.

"Wait!" Nico shrieks.

The driver doesn't listen and the cab even picks up speed. Nico opens the window.

"What's your name!?" He screams to the wind.

The guy is nothing more than a figure now, but Nico sees him raise his arms to cup his hands around his mouth.

" _Percy!_ "

 

Nico lays off the life of crime for a few weeks, returning to art school, his dorm room, and his paintings. His father calls to tell him, 'good work,' and Hazel congratulates him on sneaking out of Interpol, not knowing how he really escaped. Nico looks himself up on the internet, impressed and relieved he isn't wanted anywhere.

His days go back to normal and he spends the nights staring at the screen of his phone, willing it to vibrate. A month passes when Nico decides he's done waiting. He taps the same message into his phone and hits send.

**U free 2nite?**

This time, the reply is instant.

**anytime 4 u baby**

**Author's Note:**

> okay, so I prolly failed the whole they-don’t-exchange-numbers part and even the smut part. When I was writing those sex scenes, I was like, where does he put that dick? HAHAH
> 
> And don’t even get me started on how tempted I was to put Jason in there my goodness
> 
> BUT I wrote this with love <3


End file.
